The desert was stretched out endlessly, a sea of golden sand under a sky sprinkled with stars.
There were no buildings, no roads-just miles and miles of dunes rolling into the distance.
In the middle of this lonely wasteland, a lively camp was going on. Music was filled in the air, and the sound of laughter was echoing as a wild party unfolded.
There men were dancing with bottles in their hands, spinning around belly dancers who were moving with grace and mystery. Some was watching the dancers, their eyes were sharp and calculating, as if they are sizing them up.
Everyone seemed lost in their own world of pleasure and indulgence.
Among them was a man caught up in the fun, dancing with women and enjoying the chaos. But his fun was interrupted when his phone rang loudly.
He take it out of his pocket, trying to talk, but the music was so loud, being annoyed, he moved away from the noise, seeking a quieter spot.
"Hello?" he answered, pressing the phone hard against his ear, but the noise still followed him. He walked further away, finally finding some peace. "Yes, Master?"
"Wherever you are, be on guard. He's searching everywhere for you, and he won't stop until-"
"Master, relax," the man interrupted with confidence. "I'm far from the city, far from his sight. He'll never find me."
The person on the other end sighed in frustration. "You do have all the information, right?" His tone grew colder, more threatening. "I'll be back in a week, and I expect to see you alive. Don't disappoint me."
"Everything's under control. Don't worry," the man assured him, hearing only a faint hum before the call ended. He sighed, lowering the phone and looking around before heading back to the camp.
As he entered inside his tent, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it carelessly aside. Grabbing a glass, he poured himself some water from a nearby pot, taking a deep drink. But just as he was about to relax, he heard footsteps approaching. A smirk crept onto his face.
"You're early, huh?" he said, turning around with a playful tone. "Babygir-" His words died in his throat as he felt something cold pressed against his member.
His eyes widened in terror, his body freezing up. Standing before him, holding a gun with a wicked smirk, was the very man he had been hiding from.
"You know why I came early," Jungkook sneered, his eyes glinting with amusement. The man trembled, his heart pounding in his chest. He blinked, hoping it was some sort of nightmare.
"Surprise," Other Young Man teased, his smirk growing into something far more sinister. "Are you scared, you coward?"
The man stood still for a moment, panic settling in. But then, with sudden desperation, he reached down and grabbed a knife from his boot. Before he could strike, Jungkook easily dodged him, landing a hard punch to the man's jaw. The knife slipped from his grasp as jungkook grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully before throwing him to the ground.
Jungkook's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he pointed his gun at the man's face, pressing the barrel against his lips. The man's breath hitched, terror flooding through him as he felt the cold metal.
"Bastard," He spat, his voice dripping with venom. His grin twisted into something cruel as he leaned closer. "You really thought you could betray me? Eat from my table and then turn against me?" He laughed mockingly. "How clever you must feel."
His tone hardened, his smile fading as he demanded, "Tell me the name. You know what I want."
The man's eyes filled with fear, but he tried to hold his ground. "I-I will ne-" But his words were cut off as He shoved the gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The night exploded with the sound of gunfire. Blood splattered across the ground, staining the sand, and even on his face.
"Rest in peace," He muttered darkly, the anger barely masked in his voice. His expression shifted as he stared down at the lifeless body, his fist tightening. With one final punch to the dead man's chest, he stand up.
"You thought you could cross me and live to tell the tale?" He chuckled, his voice low and dangerous. "No one betrays JK and walks away alive."
He tossed his gun to the man standing at the entrance, who caught it without a word.
"Bury him somewhere," He commanded, his voice cold and unfeeling. The guard nodded silently as others entered the tent, dragging the dead body away.
Stepping outside into the cool night air, He pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He lit the cigarette and took a slow drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs as he exhaled, letting the tension drain from his body. But his moment of peace was interrupted by one of his guards approaching him, looking both confident and nervous.
"Boss," the guard spoke, bowing deeply before handing him the phone. "It's Mr. Park."
He took the phone with one hand, still holding his cigarette with the other. "Hmm," he muttered, his voice cold and indifferent. After listening to the other side for a moment, his expression remained unchanged. "I'm on my way, Jimin." His voice was like ice before he tossed the phone back to the guard.
"We need to go back," He declared, flicking his cigarette to the ground. "There's a new problem that needs handling."
With a smirk, he turned and made his way toward the jet, his footsteps steady and purposeful. The night was silent except for the hum of the wind and the distant sound of his guards clearing away the mess he had left behind.
He climbed into his private jet, his guards bowing as he passed, and settled into the plush seats. Outside, the desert remained quiet, the red-stained sand a silent witness to his ruthless power.
As the jet engines roared to life, drowning out the night, Jungkook's reputation as the feared Mafia King was a heavy shadow hanging over the land-a constant reminder that anyone who crossed him wouldn't live to tell the story.
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☆Vote and Comment For Episode 2☆ you liked it? this is just picture, my friend ;)
